Common dirt

We're an easily divided country, too much so. But if you look hard enough, there's a bond between even the most disparate of demographics.

Say, for instance, an urban-dwelling, allegedly fashionable homosexual who detests auto racing and a fan of said sport, toothless and rural, dressed in a camouflage jumpsuit. Sure, he's the reason there's a "Larry the Cable Guy" movie. And granted, I wasn't parading around the Dixie Speedway last night with a rainbow flag draped around my shoulders.

I was sent there for one of those standard offbeat human interest features, but I came away encouraged that there remains some nobility among the good 'ole boys, as much as I (and others) tend to easily dismiss them. More than one offered me a burger off his grill, or a beer from his cooler. They were refreshingly unguarded and lacking of any pretense.

And a lot of them were there, watching these old jalopies circle a dirt track, because they feel abandoned by NASCAR. More than one voiced a complaint I make almost every day (albeit about different subject matters): "There's too much commercialization" ... pretty much the same reason I see indie flicks.

It seems rednecks ain't too fond of being bombarded by advertisements at every turn, either. They want to be left alone, so to speak, and so do I.

We're not as different as the politicians and pundits would have us believe.